One week ago. Walking Willow Rosenberg through his new offices of Daniels Technologies Corporate, Theo Daniels is enthused about the work he’s starting. Willow seems slightly overwhelmed, thanking him for her new position, hoping it wasn’t just friendship that got her in the door. She’s also thinking back to Giles’ wardrobe advice. Everyone looks so slick. I should have changed.

She wants to contribute as much as she can. She’s heard he has some nasty supernatural virus in his computer tech she could probably work out, but Theo isn’t listening to her as he guides her towards a solid, metallic door. He exhales, as if he’s about to undergo some sort of cathartic physical change, but he’s just showboating.

He hasn’t heard a word Willow has said. He welcomes her to the War Room. Willow is stunned into silence.

They’ve entered a room that appears to be round, with a dome. It’s wall to wall with video screens, streaming images from across the world, all with supernatural threats on them, all showing preparations to combat them. A holographic image of the Earth spins in the centre of the room, and soldiers rush around the consoles, alarms beeping. More Enterprise than Millennium Falcon.

She’s concerned. Once she’s grasped the scale of what’s in front of her, Willow tells him that she has history with the military and none of it is good. Theo already knows. But the people at the top have changed.

He’s interrupted by a woman with short brown hair and a smart pantsuit. She smiles at Willow and introduces herself.

“Lake Stevens. Department of Defence. I’m affiliated with the Unified Supernatural Combatant Command.”

Willow giggles. Stevens picks up on it. “USUCC. Yes. Unfortunate. We’re working on a better one. But we’ve got more pressing concerns.”

She turns to the screens behind her: the incursions on this dimension are worldwide and increasing. They can no longer think like the military of the past, distrusting the forces of nature. The command structure has been purged of anyone who served Twilight. They want Buffy and her associates as allies. Willow notices a figure on the nearest screen.

“Yes. We’ve been working with your friend Kennedy,” Lake says, pointing at the screen and zooming in on Willow’s ex. “We initially asked her to speak with you about this, but she thought it might be awkward because of your past relationship.”

Willow sniggers. “She can be so condescending. And also right.” When Lake mentions they’ve been liaising with the Magic Council, Willow is surprised to find D’Hoffryn and his people behind her. Willow backs away quickly, but is assured by Lake that they all have to work together – the world is in crisis. They will never have a better chance.

Willow remains doubtful but Lake flashes a warm smile at her. “Give us a week,” she says.

“That’s all we ask.”

Spike remembers. Was it three, maybe four years ago? He knows it was a while. And he knows how he was feeling.

He was travelling, mostly at night, avoiding people. Since the ritual, since he got his soul, he’d struggled. Thoughts kept him awake. A pang of constant guilt in his stomach. Their voices. Their faces. All of them. Every single one.

And he thinks of Buffy. And what he did to her. How he almost…

He remembers eating rats. Someplace called Greenville, he thinks. There had been some thugs chasing a girl into an alleyway. Spike remembers stopping them, his damaged and worn boots coming apart on him and sending him reeling.

As one of the thugs hit him repeatedly with a pipe, Spike remembers standing up and trying not to vamp out in front of the girl. He complained about his boots being ruined, complained that the thug’s boots were too small for him to steal. As the thugs fled, Spike leant against a wall.

The woman introduced herself as Dylan. Dylan Turner. He was surprised she spoke to him. It had been too long since anyone had spoken to him. He offered to walk her home, not telling her much about himself; after all, the supernatural hadn’t been revealed to the human world yet. But she smiled at him. And flirted. Of course, they flirted.

Dylan revealed a little about herself. Minnesota-born, wannabe painter and artist. She asked Spike if he had a girlfriend. He laughed it off. He screwed his last relationship up. He stopped, and she noticed his real sadness. His real truth. In the end, he told her that his name was William, knowing he would never see her again.

Days later, after saving a baby from a fire and procuring a new pair of boots from some very bad-tempered shop proprietors, Spike finally left Greenville as quickly as he came. But he stopped by Dylan’s first. Wanted to say goodbye. That’s what he told himself. But he was also tracking a child-eating demon at the same time. Together they saved the kids. And then they shared a kiss.

After defeating ‘Mister Mucus’, Spike and Dylan talked. She’d seen the truth in the battle. There was no denying it.

He was a monster, not a man. Never a man. Couldn’t even protect himself from the sun. In the end, he didn’t say goodbye. Just left a plant pot on her doorstep. One specifically meant to be bred in the daylight. And not the dark, like him.

Now, Dylan sits opposite him in the booth, the bar loud behind them. Spike tells her immediately that he’s in a relationship.

Dylan chuckles. She didn’t come all this way to find a stranger she met one time because he thought he was the love of her life! She reacted badly to him before, when she found out he was a vampire. But since, she’s seen him on television and realised she was too harsh. She has sought him out to apologise.

But it was more than that. Her encounter with Spike made her think that there was more to life for her. That she could just go out and grab it. So, she doesn’t just want to say sorry to him: she wants to thank him.

“It all came to a head when I saw you on TV fighting that giant-bat monster tearing up San Francisco. You were so real… so genuine… You went out and did what you had to do. No doubt. No questioning.” She felt she had to do the same. She found a small town outside of San Fran – a hippie community. She sold some of her paintings and has a gallery showing. She hands him an invite: the least she can do, she says. “I had to find you and say thank you, William. I finally grew up. And you played a big part in that.”

At the apartment of Buffy and Willow, Buffy is annoyed. She’s just found out that Willow has been working for the military – for a week! – and not told her. Willow explains she couldn’t if she wanted to – she signed a non-disclosure form. Buffy reminds her that they killed their friends.

Willow argues that Buffy went along with Satsu, but Buffy explains that she was on one mission. Not a payroll.

Willow argues that Theo was introduced to her by Buffy herself! But Buffy thought it was a think tank. She’s appalled that Willow is thinking of staying in the position. Willow looks at her directly. She is not thinking about it. She is doing it. They have resources they can use.

Buffy goes quiet. “You don’t have to tell me about their resources. I keep thinking about Saabira. Remember her? One of the new Slayers. She grew up under the Taliban. Wasn’t even allowed to go to school.”

She looks away from her friend. “She was so happy to have somewhere to belong. Where she could fight for things that mattered. With sisters who valued and cared about her. I held her hand while she died from a gut shot, in Tibet. A bullet fired by the people you’re working for now.”

Willow looks back. Her expression is stern. “I remember. I could never not remember. But I put it aside. Because everything isn’t about me.”

Buffy doesn’t say anything. She drops the basket of laundry she was carrying. It hits the floor with a thud, matched by Buffy’s slamming of the front door.

In Montana, a group of disembodied brains are floating, eerie tentacles reaching out from them, grabbing civilians, infecting them like puppets. It’s sheer panic. The military are there, firing repeatedly at the floating horrors, finding a force field blocking their path. They prepare to fire something bigger at it, but Willow floats down from the skies.

She floats towards the brains, glowing with magic. She declares loudly that no one will die here today. She fires a bolt of energy at the field, disables it and orders the soldiers that now is the time. They fire and the creatures implode. Willow floats down to applause and cheers, from both the civilians and the military. They tell her that she saved a lot of people today, and lots more besides.

In San Francisco, Buffy is nestled on an armchair, while Spike pets the kittens. The news is showing the events in Montana. Buffy sits there, watching the reporter finish his piece.

Buffy’s annoyed. Willow could have teleported her there in minutes. Spike thinks it’s fine – they have plenty to research looking for the demon lords. That would stop all of the portals opening at least. She stops, turns the television off and turns to Spike. “Is Willow right?” she asks him. “Am I being selfish and stupid?”

Spike tells her he can see both sides of the argument. At the moment, their interests align with the army. “But I’ve seen more than a few bloody wars between old allies in my day. Don’t imagine there’s anything wrong with going your own way.”

Buffy spies Dylan’s invite on the table. He tells her that an old friend has a show. Buffy is surprised he has normal friends. She says they should show their support and attend. Spike is hesitant, but tells her about Dylan.

Buffy turns, slightly annoyed. “Spike. I don’t care if she is an old girlfriend. In the past few months we’ve worked with like, three of my exes. What bothers me is you keeping secrets. First Willow, now you! People who care about each other don’t…”

Spike stops her, mid-tirade. “Hang on! I wasn’t hiding anything. Hadn’t decided if I wanted to go, that’s all. I knew Dylan for, like, a couple days, years ago. Don’t make a big thing out of it.”

Buffy looks away from him. There she goes again, making it all about herself. Spike shouts that he didn’t say that. He just wanted to handle it properly.

“You don’t need to ‘handle’ me Spike. You don’t need strategies. Just be honest. Be my friend before anything else.” She wraps her arms around his neck. He responds by pulling her closer. “Easy enough,” he whispers in her ear.

“Yeah. You’d think, right?” she whispers back.

Later that same evening, Willow is working late in the War Room. She realises she’s not alone, and is pleasantly surprised to find Lake Stevens behind her.

“You are a genius,” Lake says. Willow shakes her head, nervously. “Well, I feel like an idiot. I’ve studied both code and magic most of my life, and never thought of putting them together before. I just wish there was a way for the satellites to detect a portal before it opens.”

Lake smiles, a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Just detecting the portals is something. It helps their response times. Willow tells her that she can stay late, finish up if she wants to go home, but Lake shakes her head. She has no one at home waiting for her. She’s married to her work. It took her three days to notice her ex had even left.

Willow winces, apologises for bringing up a sore subject. But Lake just smiles and places her hand over Willow’s on the console. “You didn’t,” she smiles.

Two nights later, the pair are in a restaurant. They’ve become inseparable. At the table, Willow is explaining how she’s avoiding Buffy. She knows she should clear the air, but she insists she did it due to the NDA. Lake asks her if that’s the truth. “I’m not condemning you. I’m just saying…”

She trails off. None of her business. But Willow presses her more. Lake sighs, her earrings glistening as her head moves. “You’ve been friends since, what, sophomore year in high school? That’s a long time. People change. Their priorities change. I had great friends in high school. And we keep in touch on social media… some of us… but most of them are married with kids now.” Willow sips her wine, taking in the speech. She’s smiling through her glass.

“We have nothing in common. They don’t relate to my work, my life. And I don’t relate to theirs. People drift apart, Willow. It’s part of growing up.”

Willow shakes her head. Not her and Buffy. “Everything we’ve been through together. All we’ve meant to each other.”

Lake says the feelings may not have changed, but the two of them have. Willow has been preparing for this job her whole life, in a way. If Buffy is offended by that, it doesn’t make her feelings invalid – but for her.

She explains that she has old friends who don’t approve of her being in the military. She doesn’t agree. But she also doesn’t try to change them.

“I’m not saying that’s how it is with you and Buffy. But at some point we all have to ask ourselves if the life we have and the life we want to have are compatible.”

The waiter arrives and asks the ladies if they’ve decided on their order, Lake’s words hanging, heavily, in the air.

On the other side of town, in the Gallery Verde, Buffy is impressed by the paintings in front of her. Spike says that Dylan’s work has improved since the last time he saw her.

A voice calls his name. Calls him ‘William’. Buffy turns in slight shock. She keeps her face straight. “I am so glad you came. And this must be Buffy, right?” says a young dark-haired woman, hurrying to greet them. Without needing to be told, Buffy knows this is Dylan.

“It’s wonderful to meet you. The entire time I’ve known William, he’s either been talking about you or brooding about you.”

“Ha,” Buffy chuckles. “I think brooding is his default setting.” Spike tells her that the work, and the show, are brilliant. Dylan appreciates it – she would be thrilled to sell just two. He analyses her style with intelligence and criticism, justifying his points like an art teacher. She compares her art to his poetry. He tells her that he never kept up with it, but she smiles at him whilst looking at her piece.

“Well, you should, you know? If you’re feeling it. But what I said applies to life too, right? I’m not the same person I was when we met. And neither are you.”

Spike looks awkward at her comment. Buffy smiles at Dylan. She offers them a painting, free of charge. She insists when they decline. “None of them would exist if you hadn’t gotten me to take a hard look at myself, and be honest with what I saw.”

She looks directly at Spike now, her hands on his shoulders. “It made me stop looking outside myself for answers. To live my life honestly. That’s the only way I was ever able to paint any of this.”

Spike smiles, picks a vibrant picture off the wall. It’s a cave, overlooking a beach. Dylan kisses him on the cheek and tells him to keep in touch. “Get to know each other like real people. You too, Buffy.” They agree and leave.

Buffy whispers under her breath as she exits the gallery. “That sounds nice.”

In their apartment building, walking to their door, Buffy’s silence has caught Spike’s attention. He asks what’s bothering her and she admits that the argument with Willow is playing on her mind. “Am I horrible?” she asks him, with honesty.

“Nothing horrible about sticking to your convictions. Question you have to ask yourself is does her having different ones change things between the two of you?”

Buffy leans into him, closer. “When she broke up with Aluwyn, Willow talked about how she’d changed, and Aluwyn hadn’t. And that was something she couldn’t get past.” She wants to get past this. Spike places his arm on her shoulder. “Talk to her,” he says, pointedly.

Buffy decides to practice her speech, kisses him goodnight, and opens her front door.

Willow sits on the couch. She’s been waiting. She says hi quietly.

“I was hoping we could talk,” she tells Buffy. She agrees.

They both start talking at the same time, neither making any sense. They stop. They chuckle.

Willow speaks first. “I’ve been hearing and talking – a lot lately – about how people change. How it’s part of growing up. I had to break up with Aluwyn. And it hurt. But it felt like the right thing to do. Losing my best friend just seems wrong.”

No more is said right now. They embrace and the hug is all that matters.

Finally pulling away, Buffy tells her that she doesn’t want them to fall apart. “I still have a problem with what you’re doing. A big one. That’s not gonna change.”

Willow looks at her, a frown on her face. “And I still think it’s important. Necessary. It feels like what I should do. It’s what I want to do. Can we be okay, despite that?”

Buffy looks down for a minute and then looks Willow in the eyes, a smile on her face. “I have problems with what Riley does. With about eighty percent with what Andrew does. Hell, plenty of things Xander, Giles and Spike do piss me off. Even Dawn.”

She points to herself. “We’ve been friends way too long, Will. We’ve beaten evil boyfriends and evil Goddesses and First Evils. I’ll be damned if adulthood is what finally gets us. Am I right?”

Willow smiles back. “I hope you are.”

Another minute of silence passes. Then Willow suggests ice cream and they race to the fridge.